Dealbreaker
by Coke Cam
Summary: Maura's depression following the Brad Adams murder (ep. 4x04, "Killer in High Heels") prompts Jane to take her out on a friendly "training wheels" date to get her back in the game, and together they draw up a dating profile for Maura's perfect match. But what happens when this leads Maura to realize that the only name on her Most Wanted list is...Jane Rizzoli? COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N: A story told in four courses-Appetizer, Dinner, Drinks, Dessert.

Huge thanks to the supporters on Tumblr-speakers77, msloneranger67, ericahahans, charliethecag, et al.

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Det. Jane Rizzoli rang the doorbell a second time, then began an internal countdown to the moment she would dig out her keys and simply barge in. It wasn't that she hadn't done that before—that was why Maura had given her the key in the first place—but she had been trying to respect her best friend's space in the week following her release from jail after being cleared of charges in the Brad Adams murder. Sometimes being polite took an enormous amount of effort and was, in Jane's opinion, overrated.

But for all that Maura was a gracious, welcoming person, she intensely valued her privacy and that had been utterly stripped away, even if only for a brief time. She had said that all she wanted was to go back to work, but Jane knew her well enough to know that was a coping mechanism for a deeper hurt. Hell, she'd written the book on that one. Something about Maura had been distracted and withdrawn, not at all her usual bright, inquisitive, occasionally annoying self.

Sighing, Jane took out her keyring and was thumbing through the bundle just as the front door opened.

"Hi, I was just…wow."

Maura Isles stood in the doorway wearing a blue terrycloth bathrobe pulled tight around her, her hands nearly disappeared within the sleeves. Her hair was disheveled and slightly bunched to one side, her makeup utterly non-existent, as if she were ready for bed except it was…

"It's 7 o'clock."

Maura nodded at her, blinking unsteadily.

Jane shifted her weight until she realized that was all she was getting. "Maur, you were going to meet us at the Robber at 6? After work?"

Sighing, Maura waved her inside and shut the door. "I'm sorry, Jane. I just thought I'd get a quick nap. I didn't realize the time—is everyone mad?"

Jane pulled her to sit down on the sofa and felt the cushions warm beneath her where Maura had been sleeping. Mad? No. Worried? Hell to the yes.

"No, of course not," she said gently. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for, but let me know, OK? I thought something familiar with people you know would be good for you, getting back on the horse, but if you'd rather stay in, that's fine too." She thought about adding that it looked like Maura was dressed to eat popcorn and watch a marathon of _Hoarders_ but decided against it.

Maura looked chagrined as she nodded. "I know, I just haven't felt like myself since I got home and I've been sleeping so much." She was rubbing her face in her hands and Jane could still see the traces of bruising on her jaw from where she had been decked while in the holding cell. The thought of it still made her angry—not hot and irrational, like most of her gut reactions, but the kind of cold anger that was infinitely more dangerous. Jane could appreciate that Maura liked her independence—she squirmed herself whenever her own mother clucked over her—but that would be the last time she ever let Maura stay behind at a party or take a cab without her. _Or walk around the block without me or order a drink without me or convert oxygen or…_

"It's good you've been sleeping," Jane said encouragingly. "In your own bed, like I said." Although that wasn't exactly true. The couch seemed to be the only place Maura was comfortable, at least according to Angela who had stopped by Jane's desk with her concerns that afternoon. "I worry about you," she confessed. "It's kind of my job."

Maura attempted a half-smile which at least was more than she had tried in the last week. "You're a good detective."

"Actually, it was Ma who blew the whistle."

"Oh, she's just dropping a dime on everyone."

"Very good, that's…" Jane shook her head with a bemused grin. "That's actually exactly how you should use that phrase."

Maura gave her a thin smile. "A little something I picked up on the inside. And despite what you hear, orange is not the new black."

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Jane hoped that was the right thing to say—it had always worked before—even though she didn't know what the right questions were. "You're safe and you're home now, but I know how scared I was and it must've been ten times worse for you."

Scared wasn't even remotely the right word for how Jane had felt. Helpless, trapped, horrified, frantic, and so on down the thesaurus but even that didn't have a word to truly capture her desperation.

Maura patted Jane's knee, letting her hand linger. "I knew if anyone could save me it would be you." Her smile was full now, genuine and grateful. Before she even realized the impulse, Jane slid her arm around her friend's shoulders, pulling her into a hug, but just as Maura's head came to rest on her shoulder, Jane felt her body tighten and flinch away.

"Whoa, sorry—are you OK?"

Maura nodded, eyes closed as she seemed to struggle to catch her breath.

"Ssshh sshh, just sit still." Jane slid to kneel on the floor, looking up worriedly into Maura's face. "You're not OK," she said flatly. "We need to call a doctor."

"I am a doctor."

"Another doctor."

"I'll be fine—there's nothing to do."

"Nothing except you could tell me what's wrong," Jane blurted.

Maura opened her eyes, breathing steadied now. "When I was hit in jail," she said slowly, "I fell against a bench when I went down. I thought it was just bruising at first, but I went to see my own doctor after I was released and they ran x-rays. I cracked two ribs. It's all right," she said soothingly as Jane's jaw clenched. "They're not fractured and there's nothing to do but let them set. I just have to be careful how I twist and I have some breathing exercises. I thought you would be happy that I won't be pestering you to go to yoga with me for a while."

"I'd be happier if you were healthy and svanasannaning all over the floor." Jane wasn't ready to admit that she had come to find yoga with Maura sort of fun in its own way, if only for the opportunity to offer running commentary which made Maura roll her eyes.

"Tell me the truth," Maura said. "You're keeping tabs on that woman, aren't you? The one who hit me."

"Who, Gomez?" Lucia Gabriela Gomez, three priors for possession, child endangerment and assault, now confined to solitary for assaulting an officer of the court, and who would be coming up before Judge Hardiman next week, a judge who owed Jane a favor and who was looking forward to adjudicating to the fullest possible extent? Oh, that Gomez? "She's in jail, you're not, that's what matters. How bad is it really? Let me see. Maur, please, I'm making it a lot worse in my head."

Maura shifted uncomfortably but let Jane coax her into undoing the belt of her robe and raising the hem of her pajama shirt to show the purpling bruise that spread across her right side. Jane inhaled a sympathetic hiss, murmuring how sorry she was.

"It's not your fault," Maura repeated. She had taken Jane's hand in hers to deflect the detective from reflexively reaching out to touch the injury. "How many times do I have to say that?"

"Uh…more than you have?" Jane grinned up at her, then softened as she saw the lingering pain. "Doesn't matter whose fault. I'm not going to stop being sorry that it happened."

"And that's what makes you a good friend." Maura smiled faintly as she tucked herself in again, cinching the robe's belt and hugging herself once more.

Jane sat back on the couch, easing herself down as if even that might jostle Maura somehow. "Is that why you didn't say anything to me about it? Because you knew I couldn't do anything and you didn't want me to worry?"

Maura considered and nodded. "I don't think I consciously knew I was pulling away, not at first, and then I thought if I could just shake myself out of this mood before you noticed, then everything would be…back to normal, whatever that is."

Except that Jane noticed everything about Maura, even when she pretended she didn't. She did actually know the names of her ridiculously expensive shoes, her favorite organic non-fat Greek yogurt, her favorite opera (_La Traviata_) and what brand of hand lotion she kept in her desk. She knew these things because they were a part of Maura and that made them inexplicably important to her. Some days she even admitted to herself why that was, but it was easier to just stay busy.

"I notice," Jane said softly. "You matter to me and you can't ask me not to care that right now even Bass is more out of his shell than you are." She had expected at least a smile for that and felt her heart crash when she saw two tears begin to trickle down Maura's face. "Oh God," she blurted, "is something wrong with Bass?"

"He's fine," Maura sniffed. "He even had extra strawberries tonight. I put on Animal Planet for him in the bedroom. At least he's not…"

Jane waited, her forehead creased so hard she wondered if she would ever get the wrinkles out. "He's not what?"

"A Lonesome George."

Jane's eyes darted around the room and found nothing helpful. "Is that prison slang for something I don't wanna know about?"

Maura sighed, collecting herself as she stared down at her hands. "He was the last Pinta Island tortoise and he died in captivity a few years ago. If Bass wanted, I could find another African Spurred Tortoise and they could be friends at least, maybe more. But…" She hesitated, lips pursed, starting and stopping her sentence. Cautiously, Jane put her hand out to cover Maura's and found her fingers caught in a tight grip as the floodgates opened. "Apparently I'm so hopelessly odd that the only compatible man I've met in years was completely lying about everything just to fool me into thinking that someone would actually have something in common with me."

_Oh._ Jane very carefully squeezed back. "No, sweetie, you can't think like that. Adams was lying because he needed you to trust him. It couldn't have been anyone else; he needed you so he could get to the evidence. Maybe one of those other guys was totally obsessed with modern art and you just didn't get a chance to meet him."

Maura shook her head, her eyes dull and downcast. "At my age, Jane, statistically if that person existed, I should have at least caught a glimpse of him by now. I just feel so stupid," she whispered. "I let myself think for just a moment that there might be someone else who was interested in the same things, someone I could talk to and…and that doesn't happen very often, Jane. I feel so alone some days, I suppose I always have, and I let my guard down so easily for just a little flattery. I know it seems trivial compared to going to prison for the rest of my life, and trust me this wasn't on my mind while I was in jail. I just realized that when there's the slightest chance I could be kindred spirits with someone, I let myself hope so quickly and…" She let out a small bitter laugh. "Isn't that ironic—my mother's name is Hope and I feel like that's what he took from me."

"No," Jane said thickly. "Your mother's name is Constance and that's exactly what you are—faithful, loyal and devoted." _It's what I'll be for you, always. God, Maur, you deserve so much better than this._

Maura wiped her eyes, trying to pull herself together. "I just realized that the reason I feel so alone is because I am—there really isn't anyone else like me and I've only just figured it out and it's sad and…and I feel stupid for only now understanding that I'm like a…a…"

"Lonesome George?"

Maura nodded as her eyes strayed to Bass who was ponderously making his way from the guest room back to his feeding area.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Jane said, "but I think this is a little self-centered."

The corner of Maura's mouth began to tremble. "Do you really think so?"

Jane wondered if it were possible to literally shove her own foot down her throat because if so, she was up to her knee. "No, that came out wrong. I mean, you have such high expectations of yourself, because you're, like, amazing and brilliant and wonderful, but this is just the reality of human nature. People lie to get what they want, and unfortunately you're not the only person who's ever been fooled. It's horrible, but you're a target because you're really nice and don't you ever _stop_ being that."

"You're my best friend," Maura said quietly, trying to smile. "You're supposed to think that."

"I'm a detective and that's my professional judgment. And by the way, I'm not exactly batting a thousand in this department. I trusted Dean with the Paddy Doyle operation and look where that got us. I walked into Hoyt's basement. Both me and Frankie missed that his wonderful new girlfriend who could cook was really an apprentice, yeah? So you're not nearly the idiot I am."

Maura gave a reluctant nod. "It still hurts," she said quietly. "Right now it feels like the only ones I can trust are you and Bass."

"What about Korsak?"

"Did you see his tie/jacket combination today?" Solemnly, Maura shook her head. "Doesn't speak well for his personal judgment."

"Yeah, fair enough," Jane chuckled. "Not that you're exactly centerfold material right now." Her words slowed as she spoke and the niggling thought which had been trying to fight its way to the surface finally broke free.

"That's it," she declared. "I know what we're doing." She patted Maura's shoulder, gently urging her to stand. "C'mon, we're going out, somewhere nice. Go get dressed."

"Did you listen to anything I said?" Maura stared at her in disbelief. "There's no point. It's not worth it."

"Yeah, I heard you and yeah, you _are_ worth it." Jane grinned. "You're going with me. I'm your date tonight. You said it yourself—you can trust me. It's like training wheels! We'll get a good meal and you'll feel better for getting out of the house. I promise you'll have a fun time, I won't do anything to make you jostle your ribs, and you won't get your head worked up about sending mixed signals to your date. I'll even be the guy and pay. Although," she grumbled, "I wouldn't mind being the girl sometime."

Maura had gradually begun to perk up as Jane explained the plan. "Aren't you the girl with Casey? Have you heard from him?"

"Who are we talking about again? Oh right, Casey, so—no!"

"Maybe you're not really dating," Maura suggested. "I think there's a name for this kind of arrangement. Friend-buddy? No, that's not right."

While an alert, livelier Maura had been Jane's intention, she hadn't envisioned it coming at her own expense. "This isn't about me," she said hastily. "Go on get dressed. It's that or watch HGTV with my mother."

She might have been grumpier than Bass, but Maura was at least marginally faster.

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TBC...


	2. Chapter 2--Dinner

A/N: The response has really blown me away - thank you to each and every person who's following and interested in seeing where this goes, plus the reviews and support. It's incredibly, incredibly appreciated.

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Ch. 2 – Dinner

When Jane reached the reservations line at Chez Jacques, she had found that not only would there always be a table for La Doctor Isles, but they would be delighted to accommodate the request for seating in a secluded corner. While all it would take was one good news story to push Maura's false accusation out of the public's mind, unfortunately the headlines were filled with Paddy Doyle's impending trial and each story contained at least one obligatory mention of Maura's paternity. Until that passed, it would be best to be discreet.

They had been seated comfortably in a corner booth, well away from the main foot traffic, and had just placed their orders and were enjoying a comfortable silence. Maura had risen to the occasion as instructed and emerged wearing a dark blue Gucci sculpted dress with capped sleeves and a fitted slate gray jacket and with expertly applied makeup that concealed any lingering traces of her physical injuries and the exhaustion that had followed. Jane shifted a little awkwardly, all too aware that she had barely made the dress code, not that the host had taken his eyes off Maura to notice her.

"There are a lot of couples here tonight." Maura had been glancing around the interior and now Jane understood why and kicked herself for not moving to intercept the conversation sooner.

"And every one of those guys wishes they were sitting where I am. Hey, that's a really nice jacket. Are you doing retail therapy again?"

Maura brightened at the compliment and sat a little straighter. "Thank you, but I've had it for a while. I don't wear it very often though because it has to go with just the right dress so I forget about it, but then I find it again and I think how much I love it and wonder why I don't wear it more. But with the wrong hemline, the whole thing falls apart." She had broken one of the bread rolls and lightly buttered it, then set the other half of the roll down on Jane's bread saucer.

Jane had no idea what that actually meant, except that the jacket did look amazing on her. "So how come you can understand that about clothes and not yourself?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You're this amazing person and that's a big part of why you don't fit with just anyone. Like, can you imagine putting that jacket with any of my outfits?"

"You have outfits?" Maura deadpanned.

Jane smirked and tilted her glass in a one-sided toast. "You're just waiting for the right pair of pants to come along."

"Very funny, Jane."

"Yeah, well, looks aren't everything," she murmured. Extracting a notebook from her blazer pocket, Jane cleared a spot on the table and pushed aside three extra forks and something that looked like a discarded spark plug. If it was a really important utensil, Maura would explain later. She flipped past her interview notes from that morning and folded the cover back to a clean page—a clean slate for Maura.

"OK, I'll need your help to get a description." Maura looked at her curiously. "Of the suspect—this guy we're chasing for you. Let's analyze it, be scientific, do the gumshoe thing. Tell me, Dr. Isles, what does he look like?"

Maura started to laugh, her eyes lighting up for the first time since they had said good night at the benefit and Brad Adams had made his move. "Are you serious?"

"I'm a decorated homicide detective with the Boston Police Department, ma'am. We're serious about crime and it's a serious crime that you're single. Let's put out a BOLO, get some leads."

Jane wasn't sure how she managed to keep a straight face through the speech, but she would do anything to make Maura happy, even make herself look like an idiot.

"I don't know," Maura demurred, but her smile continued to grow. "It's not really the outside that matters the most to me."

Jane faked a coughing fit to cover her declaration of _bullshit_. "C'mon, you love art and fashion and how it all it 'moves the soul'," she intoned. "Just give me an idea of what you like looking at."

"Fine," Maura sighed, then rested her chin in her hand, thinking hard. "Taller than me, contrasting features, a little European."

"OK, tall, dark and handsome to start?" Jane quickly jotted. "No mysterious health conditions, like what was it again, Murfman Symptom?"

"Marfan Syndrome." Maura looked up as the waiter approached and accepted a second glass of wine while Jane declined. "Yes, preferably no shortened lifespans."

_No weird diseases_, Jane wrote carefully. "I'm trying to put a face with this though. Tell me someone we both know that he might look like."

"Good bone structure, strong jaw, dark eyes, nice smile—Tommy?" Maura suggested.

Jane's pen slid off the edge of the notebook and snagged on the tablecloth. She looked up very carefully. "Has he been hitting on you again?"

"Your brother never hit on me," Maura corrected. "We spent time together and I liked him, a lot, but it wouldn't have worked for other reasons, which doesn't change the fact that he has a very low body fat ratio and his oblique abdominals are impeccable."

Jane dropped the pen completely. "Exactly how do you know that?"

Maura shrugged, the little forward tilt of one shoulder. "He helped replant the hydrangeas in the courtyard for me and it was warm, so he may possibly have taken his shirt off. He doesn't have any prison tattoos, by the way."

"Ma will be so proud," Jane muttered. "OK, Rizzoli-esque, let's say that. Now, mental—I'm assuming smart or you'd get bored. Is there a minimum degree level?"

"A degree doesn't always indicate intelligence. Look at how gullible I was."

Jane started to protest but stopped as their food arrived and she found herself blinking down at something that bore no resemblance to what she thought she had ordered. Maura, however, was gushing her thanks to the waiter in French and practically bouncing in her chair with excitement, and Jane would have eaten two plates of raw squid for that, which she might be about to for all she knew.

She waited until Maura had taken her first bite before saying, "You're being too hard on yourself. Adams was a professional con man. He made a living doing that to people and it wasn't personal. You're incredibly smart, Maura, and you deserve someone who can challenge you. I'm putting down equal or greater intelligence but, uh, maybe not in science."

"No? Oh, I see—proficiency in another field would engender my respect."

Jane stared down at what she had written—_Good at other stuff_—and shrugged. "Uh, yeah." _Or, to put it bluntly, not you, Jane._

"Oh my God." Maura's eyes slowly closed in pure bliss as she sampled the side dish. For a single very inappropriate moment, Jane wondered if this was what sex with Maura would be like. She should probably ask about that too, but was terrified that Maura would actually tell her.

Jane cleared her throat with effort. "I'm gonna make a little category here for 'likes weird food'."

"No, you have to try this."

"Uh, what is it?"

"Smoked aubergine with red pepper coulis. It's exquisite—please, for me?" At Maura's wistful expression, Jane felt all her reservations melt away. Pretending to grumble, she held out one hand for the fork before realizing that Maura wasn't going to hand it over. The bite was precariously balanced, so Jane allowed herself to be fed, prepared to chew and choke it down. As the smoky flavors blended and spread across her palate, she had to fight back the urge to moan.

"That's…that's pretty amazing."

"See, I can be good for you," Maura said happily. "I mean, thank you. You were right. I needed to get out of the house tonight. You're a really good friend to me."

Unaccountably, Jane felt a flush start to creep up the back of her neck as they began to eat. "Yeah…ditto."

And since that's all she would ever be, she was happy to do the very best job she could. She had known on some primal level for years now that she loved Maura—a fact as simple and unyielding as gravity—but it wasn't the kind of driving, unrequited love that shoved any other kind of relationship aside. It simply wasn't possible given what Maura needed for a satisfactory match. What she felt was much larger than simply a romantic attraction, so to have her as a best friend, her closest confidant, to know that Maura chose her company and trusted her above anyone else, that alone was more than she could have ever hoped for.

Just last night she had explained it to Jo Friday on their pre-bedtime walk.

_If she ever liked me like the way I like her, it'd be like winning an Oscar. It'd be awesome but it's not gonna happen because I'm not eligible. If someone handed one to me, of course I'd be thrilled, but I don't even think about it because it's just not gonna happen. It doesn't keep me from going to the movies though and having a great time._

And that's what Maura was—a front row ticket to the most exciting show she'd ever seen.

"Madame?"

Jane jerked out of her thoughts and found the sommelier standing politely at her elbow. "One of the tables would like to send a bottle of wine—I have some selections for you?"

Without needing to turn around, Jane sensed Maura stiffen and she remembered instantly how Adams had used her love of wine to manipulate her into staying to talk with him. She found herself half-wishing that he hadn't been killed just so she could find him and punch his lights out.

Jane motioned the man to lean in and said quietly, "Thank you, but that won't be necessary. My friend already has a date for the evening and…I mean, thank them for the offer. It was very kind."

"Of course, madame. Although," he paused, "if it is any difference, I believe the offer was perhaps for you."

Jane bit off her standard rejoinder, to suggest that someone needed to get their glasses prescription checked, and repeated that it was appreciated but unnecessary. A waiter had joined them to offer to help clear their plates and the simple action seemed to help Maura regain her composure as she thanked him and sat back. After a moment, Jane realized she had simply been staring at her friend and she shook herself, pretending to search her notes quickly.

"OK, so that brings us to the emotional component—we're admitting emotions exist, right?"

Maura allowed a judicious nod and a smile at her own expense. "Someone kind, protective and loyal. Someone who has their own interests but doesn't mind accompanying me, like you do when we're trying to run errands together. And he has to be good with Bass."

"How, exactly, can you be 'bad' with Bass?"

Maura's expression slowly took on a wounded tinge. "He's actually very sensitive to his environment, and don't think I don't know about your using him for a coaster."

"What, he said he wanted to help. OK, let's see…" Jane tapped out a rhythm with her pen against the table as she reviewed her notes. "Call me crazy, but I'm getting something. What're you doing tomorrow for lunch?"

"Jane, no. I don't think I'm ready, even for just a lunch date."

"Relax, it's just the shelter."

Maura gasped, then lowered her voice and cupped her hands to her mouth. "One of Rondo's friends?"

"No, the animal shelter—what you want is a German Shepherd."

Maura simply stared at her, then made a lunge for the notebook and managed to get it away. Scanning down the list, her lips barely moving as she read the notes, she slowly broke into the most beautiful, genuine, heartfelt laugh that Jane had heard from her in a week.

"How in the world," she murmured, then shook her head and returned the notebook. "Well, I suppose if I'm a Lonesome George, then…"

"No, Maura, stop," Jane groaned. "You're not some depressing tortoise, and hey, you wouldn't even want someone who was exactly like you, right? You want to have some things in common to hold you together even though some things are different."

"A covalent bond as opposed to non-covalent, and I heard you say tortoise."

Jane found herself staring into the distance as she blinked rapidly. "OK, I'm going to assume there was English in there somewhere." She might have added an aggravated sigh except Maura looked so pleased with herself and it made Jane's heart stutter to know that she had been the one to cheer her out of the numbed depressive state she had been in just a few hours earlier.

"A covalent bond is formed between two different atoms when they share an electron in common which makes each atom complete and stable. A non-covalent…"

"Is that Isles-ese for opposites attract?"

"More or less," Maura agreed. "Or in other words, what we have. You and I are very different, but there's something that bonds us together and I think my life is much better with you as a part of it, and I hope the same is true for you."

_Oh…you have no idea._

"Yeah," Jane agreed casually. "My Scrabble score's gone through the roof since we met. No, seriously, I understand, and yes. I can't explain it but we work, so it kinda sounds like what you want in a relationship is what we have as best friends but with…"

The waiter mysteriously appeared at her elbow and held out a parchment slip for each of them listing the evening's desserts.

"…but with dessert too?" she finished lightly, one eyebrow raised in a silent smirk.

Maura laughed, one hand to her mouth as if embarrassed which Jane knew was hardly possible when it came to Maura and sex. Just as suddenly she noticed Maura's hand clench around her napkin and she looked down as if struggling to concentrate.

Jane leaned across the table, nearly knocking four unnecessary glasses over in the process. "What's wrong?"

"It's all right, I just forgot," Maura managed, but she was smiling. "You make me laugh and I put too much stress on my ribs."

Jane had never tried to kick herself under the table before, but found that she could with a surprisingly little effort. "I'm sorry, I promised you wouldn't get hurt. Just sit still, OK?"

"Jane."

That one word, said so gently and with infinite patience, calmed her instantly and she sat back but still at attention, utterly focused on her friend. Maura smiled again, sitting up straight now and with a slightly puzzled look on her face.

"What?"

"I don't know," Maura murmured. "You just reminded me of something and I can't place it." She shook her head, releasing the thought.

"So, about dessert." Jane tried to think of how to phrase the question without being offensive, not that Maura seemed to have very many boundaries in that area. "I'm guessing you need the whole package meal deal, all the physical, mental, emotional courses first—you wouldn't just skip to dessert?"

Maura tilted her head slightly. "Oh, friend-buddies? No, I don't think so. That wouldn't be very balanced."

"I figured, just checking. So what looks good—vanilla, chocolate?"

"I suppose you would say Neapolitan," Maura smiled. "I don't believe in limiting myself sexually."

Jane's face slowly went from dusky tan to deep red. "I meant the, uh, the dessert, uh…menu. This. Here. There's a vanilla bean cream brulley…thing and chocolate gatey and…" She continued down the list, purposefully mangling each selection just to hear Maura laugh and correct her until she was able to regain her composure.

They finally settled on ordering a pear galette with caramel sauce and a chocolat pot de crème, agreeing to split and share. By the time the waiter returned with a silver coffee service, Jane felt safe returning to the topic.

"So, since you're, uh, open on the matter of dessert, let's just put down that you'll wait until after 'dinner' to see how you feel before you decide if you want to order dessert. Now, are there any dealbreakers?"

"A dealbreaker," Maura said slowly. "Oh, something that would supersede any other obvious attractions and render the prospect moot?"

"Or, in the common tongue, a dealbreaker." Maura motioned for her to hand over the notebook. "What, no, it's my notebook."

"You'll get a cramp in your hand."

Realizing the probable truth of that, Jane surrendered it and the pen as well, then settled in to wait while Maura proceeded to fill several pages with Thou Shalt Nots. By the time dessert arrived, she seemed satisfied but still returned as they ate to add an occasional note.

"Y'know, I'm starting to suspect it wasn't that Lonesome George didn't have options, he was just too damn picky."

"Self-awareness leads to enlightenment," Maura said serenely.

"And a table for one. Hey, do you want the rest of that?"

Maura neatly divided the last of the galette and lifted half onto Jane's plate with the tines of her fork. Two bites later, Jane was struck with an idea. She chewed quickly, gesturing as if trying to save a spot in the conversation when actually no one was trying to break in. Maura waited, staring at her in amusement.

"I know," Jane mumbled. "What about Frankie?"

"Your brother?"

"Yeah, my brother—you already tried Tommy, don't you want the set? C'mon, he's a great guy, loyal, protective, he made detective so he's smart in another area. Don't wear heels and he'll be taller, and if he could get away from Ma's cooking, I bet those Rizzoli abs would pop right out. I know he's younger, but that can't hurt with, uh, dessert." Jane winced and shook her head. "No, not thinking about that," she muttered, "out, out."

Maura considered but seemed to be sliding into disagreement. "On paper, I would agree with you, and he's a really wonderful man, but I'm not sure about the chemistry. I think, perhaps, he's so kind to me because of you."

"What? No, Maura, that's not true."

"I don't mean he wouldn't be anyway, but…" She hesitated, searching for an explanation, then brightened. "You're like the sun."

Jane waited. She waited a little longer. "I'm…yellow? 'Cause really that's more your thing these days."

"Things look different when you're near them. Did you know that the moon doesn't actually have any light of its own? Any light you see in the moon is actually reflected from the sun, and that's what it's like when I'm with you. People _see_ me. Because of you."

Jane felt a slow upwelling gathering strength within her, the urge to say something that she had promised herself she never would, and she began violently stuffing it back into the bottom left corner of her heart where she had exiled it.

"Moon's nicer," she managed to croak. "You don't need SPF."

Maura simply smiled and let her deflect the compliment, the game they played so well. "I think I'll hold out for someone who gets me. You do, so maybe it's still possible."

"Yeah," Jane agreed more steadily. "But y'know, you're not really as complex as it seems. You sorta have to step back from all this," she waved one hand at the list, "and look at the picture. It's like one of those dot paintings. What's it called?"

"Pointilism? _Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte_?"

Jane felt a small dull throbbing begin behind her left ear. "How the hell do you do that? Do you wanna play bar trivia? Because you'd kick ass."

"I love that painting," Maura said, and Jane thought the smile on her face could light the entire restaurant on its own. "I fell in love with it the first time I saw it at the Art Institute of Chicago. I was eight. We went for my birthday."

"Of course. Do they do kids' parties?"

"I don't think so. Did you want one?" Maura maintained a straight face as long as she could before beginning to smile again as Jane started to laugh.

"Sarcasm, you've been practicing. But yeah, finding someone is like that kind of picture. If you get right up on it, you lose the forest for the trees. You have to back up and really see yourself, and…Maura, you're amazing and you should never settle for anything less than someone who's going to treat you like you deserve."

"And what do I deserve?"

"Anything you want. Plus dessert."

Everything.

Everything.

_I'd give you everything_.

* * *

TBC...pt. 3, "Drinks"


	3. Chapter 3--Drinks

A/N: Thank each and every one of you again so very, very much for the support and interest in this story. You can't know how incredibly appreciated it's been.

* * *

Like most detectives, Jane never went anywhere without her phone, but she had thought that she was safe at least to take a shower after working out. With Maura still recovering from her injuries, running together was out of the question so she had headed out after work once the day's heat had peaked and had only just returned from a four mile circuit of the neighborhood. The universe, with its typical sense of humor, had just let her soak her head under the water when she heard her cell go off in the other room.

Grumbling and shivering, she hopped out of the shower, grabbed a towel which soaked through as soon as she wrapped it around herself, and went to retrieve her phone.

"Rizzoli," she barked.

"Um, hello? Who is this?" The male voice was unfamiliar with a faint New York tint.

"This is Detective Rizzoli and it's my damn phone. Who are _you_?"

"Oh. OK. This is Andrew Beauchamp and…"

There was a muffled scuffling sound at the other end of the phone and the sound of Andrew protesting before Maura's voice come on the line.

"Andrew is my friend."

Jane pulled the phone away from her head, stared at it in shock, then slapped it back to her ear. "Maura? What was that?"

"I said," Maura declared slowly, "that Andrew…is my…friend."

"And you," Jane said, "sound very drunk. Please tell me you're not drunk."

"I may be slightly inebriated, but I am _not_ drunk. I drank," she said instructively, "which is the past tense of drink, and when you drank you can become drunk, which is an example of ablaut tense change, and not the Germanic dental preterite which would be dranked."

"Mmmm, I did _not_ know that," Jane said brightly. "Put Andrew back on."

"Hello?"

"Hi, Andrew—let's get a few things straight. That woman standing next to you? She had better be in exactly the same condition you found her in by the time I get to you or I can guarantee that you will find yourself in a condition you never dreamed possible. Capice?"

"Capice," he agreed faintly.

"Also, she's very smart and she's probably going to try to talk you into doing something that seems interesting. Let me assure you that it will not be. If she suggests anything other than breathing, do not do it. What you want to do is stand right next to her and don't let her move. Can you do that?"

"I can try. I mean, yes. _Yes_, I can do that."

"Good. Now, where are you?"

"We're at Bacchus on 4th and…let me check." Andrew fumbled the phone, then returned with the exact address and a description of the exterior sign.

_A wine bar, what the hell?_ It wasn't surprising that Maura might try to drag her to one, but for her to go on her own, alone after what happened with Brad Adams? When she had dropped Maura home the day before after their impromptu training wheels date, everything had seemed fine, practically back to normal, and then she had caught a case that morning so they hadn't seen each other all day. What had happened in the mean time?

"OK, how did you get her phone?" Jane demanded. She had put her cell on speaker and was half dressed and debating if the other half was really necessary.

"Well, your friend's been here for a while and she's been sort of drinking…"

"How much?"

"I've never met her, but I'll say…a lot? For her size?" The man's voice rose slightly, as if afraid of her reaction but not able to pull back in time. Under other circumstances, Jane would have laughed, but these weren't other circumstances.

"Then what?"

"So," Andrew said, "we got a little concerned when she wanted to leave. No," he said, away from the phone. "No, you can't go outside. We have to stay for…for the surprise. Right? No, I don't know what it is—it's a surprise. OK," he said back into the phone. "She was having trouble with dialing so she asked for help and you're listed in her directory as the emergency contact, so I dialed you instead. Are you really a detective?"

"Yes," Jane said as she jammed her feet back into her sneakers without bothering to unlace them. "I am, and if anything happens to her by the time I get there, then I can introduce you to my badge. Got it?"

"Got it," Andrew said weakly.

Jane didn't bother trying to center her car in the parking lot, wrenching on the brake as soon as the wheels crossed something that looked approximately like parallel yellow lines. There was nothing in the car worth stealing and thus no reason to spend a precious .3 seconds on locking it, though she had taken the bubble light off the roof and tossed it on the passenger seat as she peeled in.

Almost disappointed that this wasn't the kind of place that needed a bouncer at the door to check IDs so she could shove her badge in his face, Jane burst through the front door and quickly cast around the dimly lit interior. It only took a minute to spot a loose cluster of men in casual business attire, possibly come directly from work, standing at the far end of the room.

"'Scuse me," she muttered as she placed her hands on shoulders, pushing them apart to let her through. And there, sitting demurely at an intimate table for two, was Dr. Maura Isles…or rather, slumped over the table with her head on her arms, gently snoring. Jane hadn't thought it would be possible to bend over that far in a form-fitting sleeveless black sheath with a neckline that would have been banned from court without rupturing a seam or two, but somehow Maura had managed it all with perfect posture.

A thin shouldered man in his early thirties in rolled shirtsleeves and tie with strawberry blond hair that flopped artfully over his forehead remained while everyone else took tiny, shuffling steps back. Jane flicked her eyes to him, trapping him in what Frost had once called the Cobra Stare. "You Andrew?"

He nodded and raised one hand in a hesitant wave. "Just breathing," he pointed out. "You said breathing was OK."

Jane gave a non-committal snort as if to say _we'll see_ as she knelt beside Maura's chair and placed one hand on her friend's shoulder to gently rouse her.

Maura shifted her head as it lay on her crossed arms and then gave a wonderfully sleepy smile as she recognized Jane. "You came for me."

_Always._

"Yeah, France called. They want their wine back."

Maura smiled sweetly with her eyes closed. "They can't have it."

"Thank God, at least you're a cute drunk," Jane muttered. "What's going on, Maur? Were you meeting someone?"

"I was looking for you. All night, looking, looking."

Jane shook her head, more confused than ever. "And you started…here? Hey, why not Dress Barn? Or Ferrets R Us? You'd have a better shot."

Maura managed to raise one hand and wave dismissively before it flopped back onto the table. "That wasn't in my mefadology."

_And 17 glasses of Chianti was? Must've been a hell of an experiment._

"Did you know," Maura sighed, "that I love you?"

"Yeah, love you too. Exactly how many of these bottles were yours?"

"No, I really, really, really love you."

"Uh huh." Jane stood up, patting Maura idly on the head as if to reassure herself that everything would be all right. Andrew, wisely, was still standing by while the rest of the men who had been clustered around drifted back to their tables. She summoned him a few feet away with a quick jerk of her head.

"Ah, thanks," she said gruffly. "She's obviously in no shape to drive."

Andrew nodded, glancing back to Maura who was now humming "You Are My Sunshine" to herself.

"I was going to offer her a ride," he blurted, "but I recognized her. From the paper? I thought that wouldn't be a good idea after what happened."

"Thanks, you made the right call. I'm not sure what's going on but she's been through a lot lately and I'd appreciate it if, y'know." She shrugged in a way that accidentally/on purpose shifted her blazer so that her gun hilt was exposed.

Andrew's head bobbed double-time—absolutely, not a word.

"So let's back up a little," Jane said. "Walk me through what happened."

"We come down to Bacchus every Thursday for drinks after court." Andrew pointed at one of the other tables where three similarly dressed men were taking turns pretending not to be watching to see if Jane was going to arrest him. "Everything was pretty quiet as usual and then your friend came in and that livened things up."

Jane's eyes slowly narrowed to barely visible slits. "Define 'livened'."

Andrew gave a helpless smile and ran one hand nervously through that ridiculously attractive mop of hair. Jane tried to remember if hair had been on Maura's list or not and then reminded herself there was no point in even thinking about it—she wasn't eligible, end of story.

_But…Naples was in Italy, so did that put her under the Neapolitan clause? Shut up, Jane, just shut the fu…_

"Well, she knew a lot about wine and was really interested in talking, so we joined up tables and then she decided to take one of the turns."

_Turns?_ Jane's stomach sank. "Please tell me it wasn't karaoke. You really, really don't want to be there for that."

"Oh, no," he assured her. "They'd never do karaoke here, but there is a piano."

The small part of Jane that wasn't still recovering from the frantic dash across town was mildly impressed. "I didn't think she knew how to play."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't, but she was very enthusiastic," Andrew noted carefully. He had glanced back at Maura who was slowly rousing herself and had managed to sit upright. "I think it was supposed to be Gershwin."

Jane winced. "Yeah, sorry about that. She's kind of a cheap drunk."

Andrew's fair eyebrows were barely visible as they knotted together. "Do you know how much that stuff costs a glass?"

"Please don't tell me." Jane had a feeling she was going to wind up footing the bill for the night, at least until Maura sobered up and could write her a check.

"Anyway, she kept drinking and asking us questions. We're all attorneys, so that's nothing unusual, but they started to get a little odd."

"Such as?"

Andrew's hands burrowed into his pockets as he tried to remember. "Would you want a birthday party at an art museum? If you only had one bite of dessert left, would you still share? If your turtle refused to eat cactus pads, what alternative would you offer? If you were an atom, what kind of covalent bond would you be? How do you feel about German Shepherds?"

_The list._ Jane groaned. "Sorry about that. She's been interviewing people, like a social experiment, except she's not very social so she misses cues sometimes." That wasn't exactly a lie, but she wasn't about to try to explain Lonesome George. "Here." She found one of her cards inside her blazer pocket, glad now that she'd taken time to put it on, and held it out to Andrew. "You need help with anything, give me a call. I'll see what I can do."

Hesitantly, the attorney accepted the card and then a grin slowly broke across his face. "Jane Rizzoli. _You're_ Jane?"

She nodded, feeling mildly defensive. "What about it?"

He was still smiling as he pocketed the card. "Your name came up a lot. Whenever we'd answer one of her questions, she would frame her response in terms of if Jane would or wouldn't agree or if Jane did that or thought that way."

"Frame her response?"

Andrew shrugged and gave a beaming, lop-sided grin. "I'm an attorney, sue me. Or, if you prefer, I can sue you. I was just wondering why she was with us if she really wanted to be with this Jane instead."

Jane shook her head as she looked around the room, evaluating each of the men who were politely trying not to stare. Not one of them was less than a 7 on the attractiveness scale and there were at least two 9s, all educated, cultured and obviously well brought up. Surely to God, _someone_ in the room had to be a match for Maura.

"Yeah," Jane said tiredly, "she'd have to be pretty drunk to want to do that."

* * *

Jane kept one arm firmly around Maura's waist as they threaded an unsteady line through the lobby and out into the parking lot. When the manager had cleared his throat and held out the tab, she had simply closed her eyes and handed over her credit card. Tomorrow would be soon enough to check the bill.

As they walked, Maura let one hand trail along the wall, seeming to regain her balance a bit more with each step. "Jane," she said, then repeated, "Jane. Are you proud of me, Jane?"

"I'll do a cartwheel if you can make it to the car in one piece."

"Hmmm." Maura let out a sigh that nearly became a giggle as she let her head drop against Jane's shoulder as they shuffled forward. "I did what you told me to."

"I don't remember telling you to cross-examine a wine bar full of lawyers about their pet preferences."

"We designed a 'speriment together. You're such a good little scientist."

"And you're such a good little drunk," Jane chuckled. They were out on the sidewalk in front of the parking lot now and she stopped for a moment to let Maura get her bearings.

"After our lit'rature review, I developed a hypothesis." Maura let her weight slump gradually until Jane had no choice but to put both arms around her to keep them both upright.

"Hey, you've got fully developed legs too—d'you think you could actually use them? And when have I ever done anything you could call 'literature'?"

Maura sighed, her eyes closed as she pressed against Jane in what could only be described as an upright full body snuggle. "Your list. We reviewed all the criteria and I…" She slowly trailed off, then revived like a record player with a faulty socket connection. "…I formed a h'pothesis and designed my mefadology."

"Most people use smaller words when they're drunk. You should try it."

Maura slowly straightened away from her, balancing precariously on her heels as she looked at Jane with wounded dignity. "I told you, I am _not_ dranked. I am conducting scientific research. When we were on our 'date'," she managed to make air quotes without tipping over, "we d'termined my criteria and I have…I have…what was I doing?"

"Dranking," Jane muttered. "I don't know, Maura, what were you doing? You don't go out like this by yourself, not to a strange place, not to talk to a bunch of guys you don't know. Not after…" _Not after what happened with that asshole, not without me there to protect you. _

"But I needed specimens for my 'speriment. I made a signif'cant breakthrough." Maura's voice was low and breathy now but she seemed to have trouble opening her eyes. "Madame Curie…Dr. Maura Isles."

"Maura. Maur. Open your eyes. Look at me."

She thought about it, then opened the left one.

"You went out drinking," Jane said carefully. "You chatted with some attorneys. If they gave Nobel Prizes for that, then every cop at BPD would have one."

Very slowly, Maura smiled, the corners of her mouth trembling as she raised one index finger in preparation of an announcement. "But I conducted my 'speriment and now," she jabbed the air with her finger, "I have a concussion."

Jane wondered if Maura with a concussion would just be an average person, but then there really was no such thing as average Maura. She took her friend by the shoulders, gently turning her to face the parking lot and they resumed their shuffling three-legged race, although if Bass had been there he would have easily lapped them to the car and back.

"Oh yeah? So what were your concussions?"

"Those men, they were very, very, very, very, very nice," Maura said. "Very nice. But their responses did not prove a positive match with yours."

_Lucky them_, Jane thought grimly. "When did I become the answer key?"

"You _are_ the answer."

They had reached the car and Jane was searching for her keys—surely she couldn't have lost them between the car and the bar—when she caught the whispered words. There was something so heartbreakingly vulnerable in it them she felt her breath catch and she had to wait before looking up because she didn't know if she could trust her own eyes not to show what she was feeling.

"OK." Jane forced a grin down at the pavement and fixed it in place before she turned to Maura. "Well, maybe it's a cop thing then. I'll take you to a cop bar sometime. Together. Me, designated driver."

"Great!" Maura squealed. "It's a date."

"Excuse me?"

Jane realized then that Maura was standing a lot closer to her than she had been a moment ago, but it didn't seem to be because she needed support. There was something focused now in those golden-hazel eyes and they were gazing up at her with an expression Jane had never seen in her friend before.

"A date, with you. That's what I want."

"No," Jane said, trying to shuffle backwards but running into her own fender. "That was like training wheels, to get you back out there. You don't wanna be a Lonesome George, right?"

"I won't be because I have you." Maura's hand was resting lightly on her shoulder now but slipping lower so her open palm covered Jane's heart which decided that this would be an excellent time to try to tunnel out to freedom. "It's always been you, Jane. I couldn't see it because you're so bright. You're my sun."

Jane took her by the shoulders to create enough space between them for her to breathe again, and at the same time she noticed Maura shivering slightly in the evening air. Instantly, Jane slid out of her blazer and draped it around her shoulders. "Sweetie, you're drunk and you're sad and you've had a hell of a week. You need to sleep this off and then in the morning…geez, you probably won't remember anything."

Maura looked up, indignant. "Are you saying my mefodology is flawed?"

"No, and I think it's pronounced _meth_odology."

"I used a Peterson double blind," Maura wailed. "Is that not good enough, Miss Peer Review?" Her arms were crossed protectively over her chest, fingers clutching the edges of Jane's blazer to pull it around her like a blanket.

Jane suddenly realized that she had just strayed into dangerous territory and that Maura was a lot more functional than she appeared at first glance. "Nooo, I'm saying you're three sheets to the wind and no, I don't want to know the etymology of that. Look, I'm flattered, of _course_, but you're not thinking clearly. We're best friends and, yes, we love each other but…"

A radiant, very un-drunk smile was spreading across Maura's face. "You're my pants."

Jane actually felt her jaw drop. She thought it might have even hit the asphalt before it rebounded. "Excuse me?"

"My jacket," Maura said with utter seriousness. "Last night, we talked 'bout my amazing jacket that doesn't go with everything. You said I was waitin' for the right pair of pants. You're my pants."

"I am not your pants," Jane said firmly. "And of all the people in Boston, no, New Eng…hell, in the Western Hemisphere, I don't fit your list!"

"You have to step back from the list." Maura had let go of one jacket lapel and stretched out to cup Jane's cheek. A shuddering flinch ran through Jane but she found herself paralyzed by the touch, unable to do more than stare helplessly. "All the details and facts, that's not the picture. It's you, Jane. It always has been."

Jane found herself blinking hard against an unexpected stinging sensation in her eyes. It was all a cruel joke to be hearing all the things she had never dared to hope for and to know that in the morning, Maura would remember none of it.

"You're not making sense," she said thickly. "The only way I'm on that list is in the dealbreakers—I do nearly every single one of the things you can't stand. I talk with my mouth full, I drink instant coffee, I sing falsetto to drown out your opera, I only own four pairs of shoes, I use your turtle for a coaster, I don't speak Serbian, I…"

"Jane. Jane. Jane." With each repetition, Maura stroked her cheek until she came to a stumbling halt. "You need t'see this."

Miraculously Maura had managed to find her phone and pull up a file she had sent herself earlier that day which she then thrust into Jane's face. After Jane gave herself a minor case of whiplash trying to pull back to a distance she could focus from, she recognized the profile they had created the night before and then Maura's extensive list of dealbreakers below, but there was a note at the bottom which she hadn't seen before.

_I have always loved Jane, but I understand now how very much __in__ love I am with her. She thinks so little of herself though that she is unlikely to believe me without concrete, empirical evidence, which is difficult to establish when seeking to verify the existence of something as ephemeral as love. I will need to make one last concerted effort tonight to locate a match, and then, when one eliminates all possibilities, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the solution. Therefore, the only logical conclusion is that Jane Rizzoli is my perfect match, precisely because she doesn't match me. Instead, she completes me._

Jane turned the phone over in her hand as if expecting to see "Just kidding!" written on the back of it. Gently, Maura took her phone back and managed to leave her own hand in its place.

"I wasn't dranked when I wrote that," she whispered. "There's only one qualification that matters—it has to be you. You're the bealdreaker, Jane. Now," Maura said, her eyes bright and slightly glassy, "hold still. I need to check something." Before Jane could ask what she meant, Maura slid one hand beneath her untucked shirt, skimming her fingertips across a taut, flat stomach. "Oh God," she moaned. "A six-pa…no, eight? You have an eight-pack?" Maura's fingers traced and counted each ridge while Jane's frontal cortex slammed into critical meltdown. "How did you _do_ that?"

"I skip lunch a lot," Jane gasped which was when Maura, literally, fell into her arms.

Instinctively Jane caught her, one arm around her waist, the other across her shoulders to keep them upright. She had barely begun to say, "Whoa, careful…" when Maura's mouth found hers and suddenly that seemed to be the very last thing she wanted to say.

This was entirely past the point of careful.

Jane slowly straightened, her arms tightening around Maura and holding her securely against her body as their kiss deepened. Maura's hands were framing her face, body melting into hers in complete surrender, _do not pass Go, do not collect $200_. Jane's blazer slipped off her shoulders and to the ground (utterly unmissed until it was retrieved sheepishly from the front desk lost and found 48 hours later) as Maura pressed into her and Jane found herself sitting back on the hood of her own car.

Half of Jane's brain was telling her to stop here and blame it all on the wine—it wouldn't be the first time a lonely, drunken woman threw herself at a friend—while the other half was reminding her that she had advance written consent right there on the phone screen, and her entire body was turning backflips and screaming, "I'd like to thank the Academy!"

Maura let out a small, tremulous whimper and instantly Jane broke away, breathing hard. "Are you OK?" she managed, searching her eyes for any glimmer of pain. "I forgot about your ribs, shit, I'm sorry."

"I'm fine," Maura swore, kissing her into silence. "I'm fine, hold still, I'm fine."

That made no sense to Jane until she realized that she had been maneuvered back onto the hood for a reason and that Dr. Maura Isles, the Chief Medical Examiner of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, was borrowing her thigh for an activity which Jane had, yes, _occasionally_ considered, but never in a thousand years thought would actually happen, much less in the middle of…

"Maur, you gotta…you gotta…Maura, stop!" Maura finally complied and blinked up with disappointed eyes. "We're in the middle of a parking lot," Jane said hoarsely. "I'm a cop. I should arrest myself."

"You brought your handcuffs?" Maura asked hopefully. Before she could answer, Maura pressed forward, leveraging with hip and thigh until Jane found herself sprawled back across the hood of the car with Maura crawling up beside her. "This is where I want to be," she murmured between kisses.

"In…a parking lot?" That certainly hadn't come up in the criteria.

"In your arms."

With that final admission, those arms, and the hands attached to them, suddenly developed minds of their own and began functioning as independent operators. One had sunk into Maura's hair, fingers stroking the back of her neck as their kiss deepened, and the other was wandering away from the small of Maura's back and down into what had until now definitely been restricted territory.

Dimly Jane heard a slow, rhythmic sound begin to come from across the parking lot and she cracked one eye open to scan for the source. Standing by the open door of a late model Mercedes, Andrew Beauchamp and his three co-workers were watching them with open grins and slow-clapping their way to a thunderous crescendo. Jane managed to free one hand for a moment to turn a thumbs-up to them, and as the chorus of wolf whistles began, she closed her eyes, pulling Maura to her, and she was home.

* * *

To Be Concluded in Ch. 4, Dessert (don't get too excited, people - there's no rating change, contain yourselves, although...well, you'll have to see)


	4. Chapter 4--Dessert

A/N: Special thanks again to loneranger67, CharlietheCAG and speakers77. In conclusion, thank you-thank you so very, very much for your notes, your support, and your kindness.

* * *

Ch. 4 - Dessert

Before the headache, cotton tongue, aching eyes or hollow stomach, Maura woke to the feel of long arms locked securely around her. Cradled safely in the bed's shifting turbulence, she tried for just a moment to struggle awake and then surrendered to the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and comfort. Two hours later, she surfaced again and managed this time to stay conscious as she began to catalog her surroundings. She was in her own bed, wearing one of Jane's many t-shirts that had mysteriously migrated to her closet, and it was Jane who was curled around her now, protecting and calming her as they slept together.

Maura hadn't drunk so much as to lose all sense of what had happened last night, but it was only the highlights which came immediately to her. Images of staggering across the parking lot, with Jane's hands tentatively slipping into her hair as they began to kiss, of her own very un-tentative response, and there was something about a six pack (which made no sense, she didn't even like beer). Then stumbling up the stairs together, Jane helping with the ridiculously impractical clasp on the back of her dress, and then…

For the first time since she had experienced her blazing epiphany yesterday morning while re-reading the dating profile Jane had composed, Maura felt a stab of doubt. Jane was so empathetic and protective of the victims she fought to defend, and Maura had admittedly been a victim herself and found herself pouring out all her insecurities to Jane. She knew Jane would do anything for her, so would she perhaps have taken pity on a drunk, pathetic…

"G'morning," Jane murmured. Stretching slowly, her fists curled above her head and arms outstretched, she turned onto her back and shuddered her muscles into wakefulness. Maura watched in open fascination and was reminded of a life drawing class she had taken her sophomore year which had taken them on a field trip to the National Zoo where she had spent the morning sketching one tiger in particular as it prowled its domain.

_Hi,_ Maura's lips moved but her throat had completely seized up.

Then Jane smiled, a wonderful, radiant, heartstopping smile that melted Maura's speech processing center. It was the smile of someone who regretted nothing. "How does your head feel?"

Maura realized Jane had pitched her voice low purposefully, so the warm rasp of it wouldn't aggravate her hangover.

"I have a headache," she said honestly. "My own fault."

"Hmm." Jane had reached across and gently brushed her forehead with the tip of one finger. "I can get you some aspirin or something if you tell me where. I'm assuming it's all alphabetized."

"By manufacturer, then active ingredient. But wait…" She stopped Jane from slipping out of bed. "I need to apologize."

Jane propped up on one elbow, her dark hair falling in a cascade over her shoulders. "There's nothing to feel bad about, Maur. I…I didn't know I was your emergency contact."

"Bass can't get to the phone fast enough."

Jane laughed so hard that she rolled onto her back again and covered her eyes with one forearm.

"I was being serious," Maura said which only made her laugh harder.

"OK…OK." Jane took a long breath and held it as if to force her lungs to calm down, then exhaled. "I'm just glad that you called and nothing happened."

A tendril of fear began creeping back up her jaw, twitching and leaping. "I wouldn't exactly call this nothing."

"Huh? No, no, at the bar, nothing bad. But you might not wanna go back there for a while or, maybe, ever."

Maura, who had always prided herself on never doing anything in public that she wouldn't want videotaped, had the creeping feeling that Jane was right. She also had an inexplicable desire to hum "Rhapsody in Blue" by George Gershwin, but put that aside for the moment.

"That's what I need to apologize for. I meant every word of what I said last night, but that wasn't the right time or place. It wasn't fair of me to spring that on you out of the blue and throw myself at you like that."

Jane had turned onto her side now and was listening patiently, watching her with those dark expressive eyes.

"You might've noticed that I wasn't exactly unhappy about what you said. In fact," she found Maura's hand under the sheets and laced their finger together, "I was pretty thrilled once, y'know, once I realized it wasn't just the wine talking."

"Well, there was a lot of wine."

Jane let out a groaning laugh. "You have no idea and you owe me for the bar tab, by the way."

"Oh Jane, I am _so_ sorry. I thought they took my card information when I ordered. I'll pay you back, I promise."

Before Maura knew how, she found herself gathered in the same arms that had protected and carried her the night before, neatly but carefully pinned beneath Jane who was grinning down at her. "I think I might have some suggestions about that." The kiss began gently enough but rapidly progressed as every lingering hesitation dropped away, all except…

"I need to tell you something," Maura gasped. When Jane didn't stop what she was doing, not that Maura really wanted her to, she forced herself to break away. "I think I was very, very drunk last night."

Jane nodded as she got her breathing under control. "I don't think that's much of a secret, sweetie."

_Perfect_, Maura thought glumly. "I mean, if you're expecting an encore, that's going to be hard because I don't," her voice dropped, "exactly remember the debut."

Jane's smile erased itself with a nearly audible sound. "You…seriously? You don't remember last night?"

Maura thought hard, squinting, then gave her best _please forgive me_ smile. "I remember being in the parking lot and kissing you."

"Tackling me onto the hood of my car would be a little more accurate."

Now Jane mentioned it, she did remember being unusually assertive as she struggled to explain her feelings to Jane who had picked that moment to be annoyingly chivalrous. "And there was something about a button?"

Jane nodded. "Yeah, you were trying, literally, to rip my clothes off and kept muttering 'My pants, my pants' and finally it just popped off."

One hand was creeping up to Maura's mouth to hide her expression of horror.

"Then it bounced around on the pavement and you rolled off after it, but it went under the car so you tried to crawl under to get it, and that's when I had to put you in the back of the car."

"We did it the back seat of your unmarked?" Maura gasped. "_That_ was our first time?

Jane rolled her eyes as she sat up beside Maura, pulling up the sheet to cover herself. "God, your house is freezing," she grumbled, "no wonder you don't mind the morgue—it feels like home. No, we didn't 'do it' in the car. What am I, sixteen? I drove us back here and you were completely coherent the whole way, not that I actually wanted to know the five generation history of the vineyard that produced the stuff you were inhaling all night. You bounced up the stairs, checked on Bass, told him not to worry because 'George isn't Lonesome anymore', and then you tried to destroy the rest of my buttons."

"I'm so sorry," Maura whispered. "I'm not usually that aggressive, I promise."

"Who said I was complaining?" Jane grinned. "The only thing you need to promise me is that you'll always tell me what you want in bed. My track record as a psychic is pretty awful. Deal?"

Maura nodded but she didn't feel any better until Jane leaned over and whispered on her ear. As she listened, she felt her face begin to turn warm.

"There." Jane pulled back but not without a kiss. "Now you know one of mine."

Yes—yes, she did, and plans were rapidly beginning to form in her head, ones that would involve a custom ordered Red Sox jersey and a very private box at Fenway Park.

"Do we need to go shopping for a new shirt?" Maura asked contritely.

"No, I managed to convince you—and you're very difficult to talk out of things when you're drunk, by the way—that it would be better to let me take off my own clothes instead."

Something about the way Jane suddenly wouldn't meet her eyes set a warning bell off in her head. "And then what happened?"

"Oh, um…you thought…I needed some music to go along with it, and y'know, I really don't know what you were trying to sing, but it was hard as hell to do a strip routine to it, I can tell you that."

"_Oh my God_." Maura groaned and buried her burning face in both hands. She couldn't decide if she was more upset at having humiliated herself again, although at least in private this time, or for having completely blacked out the memory of Jane Rizzoli stripping for her. "Was it really that bad?"

When Jane didn't answer, Maura cracked one eye open and saw her holding a black plastic card between two fingers. "What's…how'd you get my credit card?"

"You tried to put it in my briefs. I guess you don't carry singles."

Very slowly, Maura Isles pulled the comforter up over her head.

"Hey. Hey." One corner peeled back and Maura shut her eyes tightly but couldn't block out the image of Jane's irrepressible grin. "Y'know, I'm available for private shows, reasonable rates."

"Please let that be the end of your story."

Maura felt a sudden rush of air hit her as Jane completely pulled off the comforter, then replaced it with her own body. "I hope not." Her voice was serious now and Maura reflexively opened her eyes and was lost in the dark brown ones staring so earnestly into hers. "I want this story to last a really, really long time."

Maura held her breath and searched Jane's face, finding nothing but what had always been there—affection, devotion, tender ferocity, and so much love that she felt herself beginning to drown.

"Me too," she whispered as she kissed Jane. "I don't suppose we could go back and rewrite the first chapter? It sounds like I wasn't really myself last night."

"Hmm," Jane considered, letting her head tip from side to side. "I was actually hoping I could get you drunk again sometime. I should definitely keep my day job, but you could make some serious bucks as a dancer."

"I don't believe you," Maura said flatly.

Jane shrugged. "Fine, check your phone, but forward the video to me before you delete it. I thought you were adorable."

Deciding that the night probably couldn't have gotten any worse after that point, Maura resigned herself. "I don't need a full performance evaluation, but please tell me that I shut the camera off before we actually had sex."

Jane's expression gentled and she settled beside Maura, mindful of her injured ribs. She smoothed back Maura's hair, her fingers lingering in the soft tendrils at temple and ear. "What if I told you that when I finally got the phone away from you and turned back around, you were passed out cold facedown on the bed?"

"You mean, after all of that…we still haven't…?"

Jane solemnly shook her head—_nope_. "But if you want to tell people that we've slept together, you can do that without fear of hives, but that's literally all we did. I wouldn't mind. If people knew that we were, y'know, together."

Maura let out an aggravated groan, pulled a pillow over her face and screamed into it, which didn't completely drown out Jane's laughter. A moment later, the pillow was plucked away and Jane was peering down at her, propped up again on one elbow.

"If it makes you feel better," she said, "it wasn't for lack of trying on your part. I'm the one who was trying to slow things down and y'know? I'm glad. Because anything we did last night just would've been about me and that's not what I want, Maura. I've wanted this with you for…I don't know how long, probably at least a week before we met, and that means your brain being there for it as well as your body. Trust me, you wouldn't have wanted to miss it."

"True, but any good experiment can be replicated." Maura's hand was drifting up Jane's arm, headed in a very particular direction when it was firmly taken into custody and kissed but not released. "For verification purposes."

"I don't think making love should be like a throwaway experiment. It counts, first time and every time, no takebacks. At least for me," Jane added with a small hesitation, something slightly uncertain in her smile.

"I think I agree," Maura said cautiously. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in a situation where I needed to differentiate between the physical act itself and any emotional connotations that would be carried because there was, I suppose, only the…" She found herself being kissed not quite as gently as before but with the end effect of taking her breath away and stopping her nervous recitation.

"Maura Isles, are you trying to say you've never made love before?"

She wasn't sure why that was such a difficult question to answer, but in that case she knew the answer must be yes. "Well, the expression would imply that…no, I suppose not," she admitted.

"Then I absolutely would want this to be something you remember, for both of us. Here, close your eyes for me." Jane's voice somehow, impossibly, deepened as she began to paint a picture.

"What I want is for you to be able to remember how it feels when I take your face in my hands and the first time I lift you up so I can pull your shirt off and what it feels like when there's nothing between us. I want you to remember me telling you how beautiful you are and what it's like when my fingers learn your skin, your neck, your shoulder, and kisses are following over every inch."

Jane was kissing her hand now, nipping a fingertip for each word, as she slowly ran her thumbnail down the length of Maura's spine.

"I'm careful anywhere you hurt, but kissing does make it better so every bruise needs a kiss, and when I reach that point on your hip that shows when your black scrubs gap when you reach for something on the top shelf in the storeroom, I want you to wonder, wait, is she going to keep going, is she going to do _that_? Because I am, and I won't stop even if you beg me to…in fact, especially if you beg me. I want you to remember that moment when you give in and trust me and fall open, and how it makes you feel to be so vulnerable but so safe, and I'll be patient," Jane whispered, one long finger stroking her cheek, "so patient until you're shivering and shaking and about to drop and that's when I tell you I love you for the first time and you can't do anything but fall as you say my name and I catch you safe, then and always, because you'll never be alone again. That's what I don't ever want you to forget. Do you understand?"

Maura felt a kiss on her chin, forehead, then nose, but remained transfixed by the night which had never happened.

"Sweetie, you OK? Open your eyes now," Jane coaxed. Maura's eyelids fluttered and she blinked up, pleasantly disoriented. "Where'd you go?"

Cautiously, she cleared her throat. "I don't know if I went anywhere, but I think I came."

Jane smiled at her, beautiful, shy and proud. "I think you'll know when you do, and I promise you will. And," she added more seriously, "I promise I'm not going. Not anywhere. This, Maura, this is the life I want."

Maura nodded, then struggled unsteadily to push herself upright against the pillows. Her head was hurting less now and spinning pleasantly, but she still needed food at the very least before she could hope to face today, the first day of the rest of her life. "Me too, as I so very inelegantly tried to explain last night. So let's start over now, day one. Let's spend it together, do everything we'd already planned, come home and order in tonight—no more wine—watch television, take Jo Friday for a walk, talk until it's too late for you to drive home, and you'll ask if I think you should sleep over, and…"

"And then you want dessert with that?

The smile that grew on Maura's face was slow but anything but hesitant. "Oh yes."

Jane grinned back. "What flavor?"

"Yours."

Jane's expression stuttered as her brain seemed to hit an icy patch and went skidding completely off the roadway and into a ditch. "I-I…I think that can be arranged," she said weakly. It took another moment for her to pull her focus back as she swallowed hard to regain her voice. "OK, good plan. Now, in my first official act, let me suggest a shower before we go anywhere because you have a reputation for amazing hair and right now it's exceeding expectations but not in a good way."

Maura cautiously put one hand to the top of her head, feeling with her palm, until she found the shark's fin cresting up from the crown of her head. "Fifteen minutes," she said, rolling out of bed. "No, thirty, I promise."

Jane said nothing, enjoying the view as Maura scurried to the shower, the hem of her t-shirt barely covering the essentials as she went. She waited for the bathroom door to close before slipping out of bed and heading quickly down the stairs to check on the laundry. She hadn't lied about anything, not even the drunken attempt at a credit card tip, but there was no reason for Maura to be even more embarrassed by remembering that the other reason they had stopped last night was that she had thrown up all over Jane as well as herself, more than once. It had been when Jane got her dressed again in a clean t-shirt, coaxed Maura into a quick brush and gargle, and then went to throw their clothes in the washer that she had returned to find Maura passed out in bed, snuggled up to Jane's backup blazer which had been hanging in the closet, just waiting to be called off the bench in case of emergency.

She had woken several times in the night to check on Maura and transfer everything to the dryer, and now her shirt and pants were clean and still slightly warm from the tumbler, but also still missing a button. Jane zipped them up and they held precariously on her narrow hips, but as she climbed the first flight, they began to work their way down and she had to hold them up with one hand while juggling the rest of the laundry.

Entering the bedroom, Jane heard the shower running and guessed that the water was steaming hot by now. Maura had let her use the master bath a few times when she stayed over and it was a vast improvement over the cramped shower stall at her own apartment where she could easily hit her elbow or knee, even sometimes her head, on the fixtures. The tiled floor alone was three times the size of a standard shower with recessed ledges, a bench, off-set lighting and multiple shower heads that created the effect of standing under a tropical waterfall. Jane had thought, idly at the time, that it would be a hell of a place for a romantic…

Her grip loosened at the thought, no longer idle, and her pants finally got their wish, falling to her ankles as their clean clothes tumbled from her arms to the bed. In a burst of adrenaline, Jane kicked her feet free and crossed the bedroom in three long strides, not bothering to knock at the bathroom door.

Just this once, maybe it would be OK to have dessert first.


End file.
